


Switching Sides

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019/20 [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Crush at First Sight, F/F, Gentle touches, Minor Violence, Non-Consensual Touching, Parent Phil Coulson, Phil Coulson & Melinda May Friendship, Protective Skye | Daisy Johnson, Redemption, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Daisy is a thief with the company of the Rising Tide, violent rebels and rogues who steal from and murder the rich and keep the profits for themselves. The reader is the daughter of King Phillip Coulson and finds herself in the middle of one of the Rising Tide’s robberies. She recognises Daisy as the rogue Quake, who steals but never kills, and tries to persuade her to join her in the fight against the violent company. As they work together, their relationship blooms and Daisy finds a home in the palace.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Reader
Series: Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019/20 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609546
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

The shadows danced on the stone walls as you walked, barefoot, through the castle. Outside, the sky was perfectly clear, the twinkling light of distant stars shining peacefully above your realm. Nights like these were perfect; the temperature had dropped to a comfortable level, no longer cloyingly warm but not too cold to feel a chill beneath your nightgown, and the air was crisp. Just right for a night time stroll. 

In the centre of the courtyard, you took a seat on the edge of an ornate fountain. A gift from the regent of a nearby kingdom, it was crafted from the best marble in the lands. Carved by the finest workmen, it showed your father, King Phillip, besting the multi-headed hydra and finally restoring peace to these lands. You traced the bumpy scales on the creature’s clawed foot, mind drifting to nowhere in particular. 

The sharp shattering of glass tore you away from your thoughts. Hushed voices echoed into the courtyard, too distant to truly make out what was being said. Against your better judgement, you gripped your torch and crept across the cobbled stone towards the sounds. 

You soon found yourself outside the palace laboratory. The lock and chain which secured the secrets within was broken, hacked apart by a brute with considerable strength. You peered through the door, left ajar by the intruders, immediately drawn to movement in the far corner. A blade, the kind you’d never seen before, glint in the moonlight, a warning of bad intentions you chose to ignore. 

Gathering your courage, unable to stand by and watch thieves plunder the hard work of your friends, you slipped inside and stood stoutly in front of the door to block the intruders’ exit. The rustling stopped immediately as your torch illuminated the lab, the silence deafening. Releasing a breath, you spoke slowly and clearly, as if you were addressing the court. “I know you’re in here. Present yourself willingly and I shall guarantee leniency. If you seek gold or sustenance for your family, you needn’t steal. The court has provisions in place to cater to subjects that -”

“You talk too much.” The cold edge of a blade pressed against your throat, silencing you. Rough hands backed you against the nearest wall, the large man’s entire weight against your chest trapping you firmly in place. He knocked the torch from your grip, capturing your wrist and pinning it above your head with a strength you couldn’t fight. 

He grinned viciously as you struggled beneath him, your efforts only encouraging him further. He pressed his hips against yours, licked a line along your jaw as the blade pressed deeper into your throat. He hummed in appreciation. “Such a sweet thing. You shouldn’t be wandering alone at night.”

“Stop it, Lydon,” a woman said. You couldn’t get a clear shot of her face from where she hid in the shadows but her sharp tone was enough to dissuade her fellow thief from acting out against you. 

“You’re no fun. Come here and keep her quiet. I’ll search for it.”

Reluctantly, the woman stepped out of the shadows. The flames from the torch gave her skin a beautiful glow, illuminated her long dark hair so it perfectly framed her features. She watched you intensely as she moved through the room with strength and grace. Her beauty should have been the last thing on your mind but you couldn’t help admire her, regardless of the dire situation. 

She swapped positions with the man - Lydon, she’d called him - and kept you trapped against the wall. However, her hold was gentler, her body warmer against yours and fingers softer as they curled around your wrist. The knife remained at your throat but you knew that, unlike the other, she had no intention to kill you. 

“Who are you?”

“We are in the company of the Rising Tide,” she answered quietly. 

“Those theives and hooligans?”

Lydon snarled, tossing a priceless book against the wall. “We take from people like you who hoard and watch from above as the people starve.”

He threw more of Fitz-Simmons’ precious volumes aside in his search, one of which knocked a candlestick off the wall. You held back the sigh of relief, although a bright wave of hope surged in your chest. That particular fixture was linked to a weighted system inside the wall that acted as a warning system. 

Every important room in the castle had one. A series of strings and bells behind the stone connected them directly to the garrison headquarters. Help would soon be on its way. All you had to do was keep these two here, keep them busy and talking until the guards came to arrest them. 

The woman closed her eyes as Lydon spewed propaganda and you realised something interesting indeed. “You don’t believe it, do you?”

“You know nothing of me,” she said, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Please, let me go and I shall ensure you free passage out of our lands.”

Lydon, having now destroyed two-thirds of the lab and still not found what he was looking for, laughed cruelly. “What freedom is there under your tyranny? You’d send us to the free forest and then hunt us down without mercy, facing no repercussions.”

He was wrong, so wrong, but you knew there would be no arguing with him. “Just take what you want and leave.”

“She’s right. We cannot stay here any longer, Lydon." 

"Coward,” he hissed. “Bring her. We can ransom her for our demands.”

The woman released her grip slightly, catching you the moment you tried to make a run for it. She bent your arms behind your back and held you tightly, pushing you towards the door. Despite her smaller frame, she was deceptively strong and your frantic attempts to break free all fell short of success. 

“Let me go. Please,” you begged.

A sharp burn spread through your cheek where Lydon hit you. “Stop speaking, you puturelle.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” the woman said harshly. “She’ll do what we say. Won’t you?”

When you hesitated, Lydon pressed his blade against your cheek. He traced a line from the corner of your watering eyes down to your lips, catching the corner of your mouth with the sharp point. It stung ferociously but you were too scared of what he might do if you made another sound to protest further. 

“Show us where the weapon is kept and I won’t leave you bleeding here on the floor for your friends to find.”

You didn’t need to ask what weapon he was referring to. Fitz-Simmons had recently been working on a new type of concoction that would render enemies unconscious without any permanent damage. However, there had been many failed attempts, the worst of which had caused painful death to the test rat. They had feared what might happen if it were ever used on people and burnt the research but, on the orders of the General, the toxic solution was kept in case a situation ever called for ‘drastic action’. 

How Lydon and the company of the Rising Tide knew about it you couldn’t imagine. What really mattered, though, was making sure he never got his hands on the vial. The damage he could do with such a thing was beyond belief. 

Swallowing your fear, you looked him straight in the eye and refused.

He closed the gap between you, pressed the sharp end of his knife into your gut. He groped you as his hand slid over your body, eventually wrapping around your throat to cut off your supply of air. Spitting on your face, he hissed, “You will tell me or you will watch the lower town burn in flames before I destroy everyone you care about.”

“You said we weren’t going to hurt anyone,” the woman said.

Finally, there were sounds of movement from outside. The guards had arrived. By some miracle Lydon hadn’t seemed to notice, too busy tearing down his companion. His grip around your throat loosened and you immediately coughed, “I’ll show you. I’ll show you where they hid the weapon. Please don’t hurt my people.”

Warily, he grabbed your arms and pressed the blade into your side. “No tricks.”

You nodded, stumbling across the room towards a picture. Lydon pulled it off and you immediately ducked, narrowly avoiding the spray of powder that flew in his face. “Harlot!” he screamed, catching you by the throat and slamming your skull against the table. 

The world blurred, the pain in your head so intense that you felt sick to your stomach. He grabbed you by your hair, pulled you to your feet and returned the knife to your throat, actually drawing blood this time. He faced down the guards at the door without fear and shouted, “Allow us passage or your princess dies!”

The guards exchanged concerned glances, turning to their leader - General May - for orders. Her piercing gaze was focused on you, communicating everything without need for a single word. You nodded shakily and she immediately ordered the soldiers to step back and give them passage through. 

Hurrying through the castle, you told Lydon everything he wanted to know. He made his partner open the secret passage, eyes still bloodshot from your first trick, but there were no traps this time. The photo revealed a small tunnel through which he shoved you, uncaring when the blade sliced open your skin. 

Soon, the moonlight came into view. Lydon glanced towards the door, then back behind him to where the guards were lurking just out of view. Making his decision, he stole a kiss from your lips and jeered, “Lovely to meet you, Princess.”

Then, pain. So much pain. 

You looked down to the bleeding wound in your abdomen and fell to your knees, shock numbing everything but your fear. The woman immediately crouched down beside you, pressing her hands over the gaping stab wound. “You said we wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

“So what if she dies? Come, we’re leaving. Now!”

“No! I will not let her bleed out.”

“They will kill you,” he said impatiently, no doubt moments away from stabbing her too. “They won’t grant you clemency even if you save her life. Not when they find out what you’ve done in our name.”

“I don’t care. Go, Lydon. Have a great life.”

“Enjoy your death sentence,” he grumbled, slipping out the door and disappearing into the black night. 

Increasing the pressure on your wound, the woman leant over you, her hair falling around her face, hiding you both from the rest of the world. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine. It will be okay.”

“Step away from her!” General May pressed the tip of her sword to the woman’s neck and she slowly pulled away, concerned gaze turned to you the entire time. 

“She’s bleeding.”

May ignored her comment and ordered, “Take her to the dungeons.” Crouching down beside you, she took in the extent of your wounds and hissed, “Send for Fitz-Simmons at once.”

The world dipped as May took you in her arms, growing dark around the edges until the last thing you saw was the concerned expression of the woman as the guards dragged her away.


	2. Chapter 2

“Don’t move.”

You did so anyway and groaned in pain. Maybe one day you’d listen to your doctors but today was not that day. Gentle hands pushed against your shoulders, guiding you back down to your bed. 

“Fitz told you not to move,” Simmons said, her calming voice bringing peace to your thoughts. 

“When does she ever listen to anyone?”

Your eyes shot open, filling with tears. “Father!”

King Phillip took your hand and squeezed gently, running his thumb over the grazes on your knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.”

“You will get yourself stabbed.”

Gingerly, you pulled up your shirt to reveal freshly changed bandages. A slight smell of honey filled your nostrils. You couldn’t help but trace your fingers over the outline of the wound over the bandages and winced despite expecting the sharp pain. Looking up at your father, whose forehead was contorted with concern, you said, “We can have matching scars now.”

He sighed, unimpressed. He’d earned many scars during the war against the hydra beasts and the northern kingdom who’d set them upon your lands. That was decades ago now. He and King Loki were far from friends - the latter had stabbed your father through the chest and almost killed him - but their lands co-existed peacefully, mostly by ignoring that the other existed entirely. There had been too much bloodshed to move past the fighting but neither monarch wanted another war. 

“Dear daughter, you should have been more careful.”

“What became of the woman?” you asked. 

The King glanced over to Fitz and Simmons who suddenly became really engrossed with the notebook on their workbench. “She is with General May.”

“Oh, please don’t hurt her.”

“After what she did, you’d still grant her leniency?”

You nodded sharply. “The man - Lydon - he was the one who hurt me. She followed his orders but did not seem convinced by the cause.”

“The Rising Tide,” Fitz said. “Her satchel bears the mark.”

“Fitz,” Simmons hissed, shooting you an apologetic glance. It was funny really, even when it was annoying. He couldn’t help sharing what he knew, even when he wasn’t actually a part of the conversation. 

“What? Oh.” He bowed his head, a sheepish smile on his lips. “Apologies, Princess.”

Simmons patted him on the back then handed you a vial containing a bright orange potion. “Drink this. It will assist your healing,” she said. The unspoken line, “It will taste like dog food,” hung heavily in the air because everything the good doctor created tasted the same. It worked better than any other physician’s concoctions but never tasted good. 

To your father, she said, “Ensure she rests. No strenuous activity for at least a week. I’ll return later to change your bandages.”

The pair packed up their things and left you and your father alone. As the door closed behind them, you turned to the king and said, “I want to see her.”

“Impossible.”

“Please?”

King Phillip sighed, his resistance already weakening. “Whatever for?”

“I believe she is the outlaw Quake.”

His lips twitched in the corner as the king fought back a smile. “You believe that of every interesting woman you cross paths with.”

“This time I’m certain. She matches the descriptions. Quake works different to Rising Tide. She steals and spreads ferment but never hurts anyone. She’s smart and quick fingered and could assist in the search to find the Rising Tide and bring them to justice.”

Your father shook his head. “Even if your suspicions are correct, she will not turn against her own.”

“I believe she will. Allow me to speak to her. I will convince her to join our fight.”

Still not convinced, the king regarded you closely for a few seconds. The last thing he wanted was to put you in danger but knew that there was no going against your will. If this was the path you wished to walk, then he’d send you down it with his blessings - and his guards - rather than leave you to wander it alone. 

Admitting defeat, he said, “I shall have May bring her to your quarters. For now, rest.”

The potion was already taking effect, drawing you into sleep. Your eyes were heavy, your body painless as you floated into a peaceful rest. When you awoke, you had a maid help you to dress in your finest silk gown - a long and difficult process when you could barely move without aggravating your wound - then called for the prisoner. 

General May delivered her not long after, depositing her in the centre of your chambers. She hovered against the wall, watching the prisoner with eyes sharp as a hawk’s. Arms folded across her chest, her fingers played with the hilt of her sword, ready to attack with less than a moment’s notice. 

“You needn’t stay,” you told her.

“I have my orders.”

“Please wait outside.” Your tone left no room for argument but that didn’t stop the General from objecting nonetheless. You held up your hand to silence her, slowly crossing the room. “You have trained me well enough to look after myself.”

“You are injured, Princess.”

You huffed in painful amusement. “I am aware.” Lowering your voice, you said, “I do not believe she will hurt me. I shall leave the door ajar and call if I require assistance. The keys to her restraints, General.”

While May was willing to leave you alone with the woman, she refused to consent to her release. Taking what little you could get, you nodded and waited for her to leave the room before crouching down on the floor beside the woman. She was on her knees, head bowed. Her cheeks were bruised - a few days old, you noted with interest; not caused by the guards - and wrists raw from the rough metal shackles but other than that seemed relatively unharmed. 

She initially recoiled when you gently touched her face. “It’s okay,” you breathed. “What’s your name?”

“Daisy, your highness.”

“Thank you for saving my life, Daisy.”

“I did not -”

“You did. My physician believes that if not for your intervention that I might have bled out before the guards found me. Are you hungry?” She shook her head but the loud rumble of her stomach suggested otherwise. “Assist me.”

Daisy bore the majority of your weight as you slowly crossed the room to the window. You sat at the table, gesturing for her to join you. The spread was a modest one, cakes and fruits, but her eyes lit up nonetheless. 

“Help yourself,” you insisted. 

Pulling apart a piece of cake, Daisy kept her gaze fixed out the window as she spoke. “What is to become of me?”

“That depends.” You saw no point in lying to her. You’d brought her here for a reason; truth was the only way forward. Licking the icing off a small cake, you said, “May and the Royal Shield are hunting your group of rebels. If you can provide insight into their members, movements, capabilities… I am willing to grant you a full pardon.”

“If I do not?”

“The General will push to have you executed for treason.”

She paled so you reached across the table and rested your hand atop of hers. “You have my words that I shall not let that punishment pass. However, even I have my limits. If you escape execution, you will likely spend the remainder of your life exiled beyond the Shadow Pillar.”

The Shadow Pillar marked the end of your kingdom. Beyond it lay thick wilderness full of dangerous creatures. To be exiled there was effectively a death sentence of its own, only a far slower one. 

Biting into a strawberry, her eyes fluttering as she savoured the sweetness, Daisy pointed out, “That isn’t much of a choice.”

“It is still yours to make.”

“Why?”

“I have a sense that you are a decent person, Daisy. I believe there is more that you can offer our kingdom than thievery.”

“Such as?”

“You care about the spreading of wealth and supporting those who cannot, for whatever reason, look after themselves. As do I. However, I do not know the intricacies of life on the outskirts. You do, I believe. You and I, working together, could make it better.” You could see it in her eyes, the way she looked at you, that she wanted to accept. Not wanting to push too hard, you sat back in your chair and said, “You shall have time to consider your requests.”

“Requests?”

You nodded. “Should you choose to assist us, you may stipulate conditions and I shall do my best to accommodate them.”

“Why?”

“Are you always so suspicious?”

“Around beautiful princesses who are offering me everything I want? Absolutely.”

Unable to help it, you asked, “You think I’m beautiful?”

Her flustered expression was, frankly, stunning. It softened the hard, world worn lines on her face. Made her seem younger, even more gorgeous than before. You smiled, taking a piece of apple from the plate. “I cannot guarantee more than safety and a warm place to stay but if you prove yourself then life can be very comfortable here at the palace.”

Somehow sensing that the conversation had come to an end, May appeared from outside to take Daisy away. “I’ll return the prisoner to the cells, now.”

Daisy glanced between you and May, her intimidating stare finally cementing her decision. She stretched her hands out across the table and said, “I don’t want to go back down there. I’ll help you. No conditions. Except perhaps a bath and a comfortable bed.”

“That can be arranged.”

“I do not have time to guard her all day, Princess,” May grumbled. 

Her worries were unfounded. You would never have suggested such a thing. May was too important to be stuck on babysitting duty and you had a feeling, the kind that was practically never wrong, that Daisy would be on best behaviour anyway. “That is unnecessary. I shall personally ensure that Daisy is looked after.”

“You will?”

You turned to the dark haired woman and raised an eyebrow. “Do you intend to cause trouble?”

“No…”

As if that proved everything, you threw your hands in the air and said, “Well, then. No problems. I shall teach her and ensure that she finds a place here at the palace.”

“But your duties -” May began. 

“I shall delegate them. My involvement is minimal at best. Daisy shall have my full attention.”

“Your father will not be pleased with this.”

“He will not,” you agreed. “However, I doubt he will be surprised. Please, General, remove her chains and take Daisy to the guest quarters. If it makes you feel better, post a guard to the door but remind them that she is not our prisoner.”

Stiffly, obviously opposed to your plan but not willing to push the boundaries of proprietary at this precise moment, May nodded to her right hand man who quickly released Daisy. She turned towards the door, offering a short bow. “Your highness.”

As she rose to leave, you caught Daisy’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I hope you find lift at the palace agreeable. I shall check on you later.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

The door had barely shut before Simmons walked in for your next checkup. Your chambers had never seen so many people this early in the morning. Simmons helped herself to one of the cakes on the table, more comfortable in your room than any physician should be, before suddenly double taking towards the door. “Was that the woman who tried to kill you?”

“She didn’t stab me. Her friend did.”

“Why was she… You didn’t. Oh, Princess, tell me you didn’t do something stupid. Again.”

Licking the icing off another cake, you met her gaze with a wild smile. She buried her head in her hands, muttering a prayer to whatever god was listening. “Really, Princess. If you desire to bed these beautiful, dangerous criminals -”

“Doctor!”

“I am merely saying that there are easier ways to get their attention than allowing yourself to be stabbed.”

“But that’s half the fun, isn’t it?”

This time, Simmons did bang her head against the table. “Bed. Now.”

“No offence, dear friend, but I’m not interested in you that way.”

“To rest!” she exclaimed, cheeks burning. There might have been a time, long ago, when you fancied Simmons that way but she was perfectly content with Fitz and you had no desire to break them apart. Especially not now, when your heart belonged elsewhere.


End file.
